


Things That Haunt Us

by firefright



Series: Talon and the Hood [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Codependency, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 20:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10368957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefright/pseuds/firefright
Summary: They each have their bad days. The moments when memories and past traumas threaten to overwhelm them. But that's why they have each other, so that when those bad days do come, neither of them has to suffer alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an older T&H piece that somehow ended up getting lost in my writing folder, but then I rediscovered and _loved_. Because hurt/comfort between these two, will I ever get tired of writing it? I think not.

In the weeks after the incident with the fear gas, they have more bad days than before. Triggers on both sides that are more easily pressed.

After a case stopping a bunch of child traffickers from bringing in a shipment of kids from eastern Europe, none of them over the age of twelve and all destined for the illegal brothels that pepper America, Bluebird finds Jason bent over the edge of the pier, vomiting the contents of his stomach into the dark waters of Bludhaven’s bay. 

With each passing second he can feel the phantom sensation of unwanted hands moving over his body. The slow crawl of memories moving back up out of his throat from where he’d kept them swallowed down for so long.

"Jason." His partner murmurs, sinking down at his side, hands hovering over his shoulders but not quite touching. Sirens sound behind them as the cops come to pick the kids up.

They were locked in a shipping container, stuck in there for who knew how long with no food or water. Two of them were already dead before he and Blue arrived, and the men responsible are in pieces but—

"I'm okay." Jason shivers, blinking back tears from his eyes, "I..." He bends over again, retching emptily until his throat burns from bile.

Blue doesn't believe him, and in his place neither would Jason. But he waits patiently for Jason to be done before brushing the back of his hand down and over his cheek, "Home, little bird. Let's go home."

The journey that should have taken them twenty minutes takes almost an hour, with Bluebird gently shepherding Jason in the right direction the whole way. Inside he covers the windows of the apartment, strips off his mask and clawed gloves, then pulls Jason onwards into the bathroom.

It's nice, Jason thinks as Blue carefully strips him down, to have someone else he trusts enough to let them take charge, to let them take care of him when he himself can't. The water runs just this side of too hot, burning away the ants crawling across his skin as Blue follows him under the spray, carefully washing away the blood and grime of the streets from his body before he simply holds Jason close, kissing him soft and wet until the world starts to make a little more sense again.

"You're here." Blue murmurs in his ear as he dries them both off with the thick fluffy towels that were one of Jason's more luxurious spending choices. "You're here with me. Nothing else can touch you. I won’t allow it.."

He waits for Jason to nod an acknowledgement before threading his fingers into his hair and leading him to the bedroom. The hold is possessive and controlling, exactly what Jason needs right now to keep his head where he'd rather it be; in the present and not the past.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Blue asks once they're settled in bed, Jason curled up with his head in Blue's lap while his partner runs his fingers through his hair, over and over.

The offer, made without expectation and judgement almost makes him crack, almost lets the words of the things he did and had done to him to survive back before Batman ever found him pass his lips, but eventually Jason shakes his head, burying his face in his partner’s thigh instead. "Can't... just... I can't yet."

Blue hums in acceptance, though there's an edge to it that suggests he's contemplating murder against the unknown sources of Jason's pain. That's a comfort in itself.

"Rest then, little bird. I'll be here while you sleep and when you wake."

Lulled by the gentle pull of fingers in his hair Jason does as he's told. Sleeps and doesn't dream.

*

Blue dreams.

He doesn't like to dream.

Dreams are cruel, occupied by the brilliant red of a woman's — women's? — hair; the rustle of leathery wings over his head; the bright buzzing laughter of voices he thinks he should know; the gentle approving slide of a huge hand in his hair. Knives slicing through his skin and ice water in his lungs.

Ghosts.

He is Talon, he is Bluebird: he is a parasite occupying the body of a dead man. He is the shadow of Richard Grayson, a creature wanted only by one person, or by a legion of cruel white masks.

In his worst dreams he is not wanted by anyone.

His little bird, the boy who accepted him for what he is rather than who he was, dies in a foreign land far away, murdered by a madman. He comes home in a wooden box and lies beneath the ground, always out of his reach as Talon visits the grave to press his cheek to the wet earth. There's no more red tunic and yellow cape to brighten his world, no more laughter and immature jokes to interrupt the silence.

He's alone. He's alone, he's alone, he's—

Blue wakes up gasping. Clawing for the warm body he expects to find on the other side of the bed, only to come up empty. Jason's not there.

There are a hundred rational explanations for where he could be, yet in that moment Blue can't think of a single one of them. He throws off the suffocating covers and springs from the bed, panic confusing his senses as he darts first to the bathroom, then the living room, searching for Jason with the same single-mindedness that he once used to hunt down his Court-approved targets.

Jason... Jason's not _anywhere_. Not in the hallway or even on the fire escape outside, and Blue feels like he's starting to suffocate in the oppressive silence of their home when he finally hears the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Groceries in hand, Jason steps through the door like nothing's wrong and it's more than he can take, more than he can stand as he shakes and swallows and clutches his hands into fists. 

Jason barely finishes closing the door behind him before he realises something is wrong.

"Blue?" Carelessly, he drops the plastic bag of food onto the floor, stepping towards him with long strides that somehow eat up the impossible distance between them. "Blue, what's wrong? Hey, what's wrong?" his fingers, cold from the chill wind rattling around outside brush Blue's cheek, "What's the matter?"

"You were gone." His voice sounds hollow even to his own ears.

There's a brief moment of confusion in Jason's eyes before understanding dawns, and then he's there, body pressed up close to his own, fingers digging into the place between Blue's shoulderblades. "I'm sorry. We needed some things and you were asleep, I didn't think. I'm sorry, Blue. I'm here, I swear I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

 _But you did!_ stays lodged in his throat as he hangs onto Jason in turn, burying his face into the warm space of his throat. _You left me before_. It's such an unfair thought given the circumstances of that departure, yet Blue can't dismiss it as he continues to shake in Jason's embrace.

"I'm not leaving you. I'm never leaving you again. I promised you that, remember?" 

Hands press him close, caressing his back while lips brush against his ear and somehow Blue manages to nod. Jason told him just that on his first night back in Gotham, in an oath given of his own free will. 

"You can't." Blue replies shakily, "Because you're mine."

"I'm yours." Jason says easily, as if handing over himself to another is simple, or maybe that's only because it’s to Blue. He wants to believe it so. "I'm yours and I'm not going anywhere."

Jason doesn't flinch when Blue bites his neck, nor when he drags his nails down his back and then up under his shirt; he doesn't protest even when he pushes him down to the floor and climbs on top of him. Blue needs action, he needs to _feel_.

Later, when they're tangled together and all Blue can taste is the sweat from Jason's skin as he lingers inside him, he almost feels like he's in control of himself again. "I—"

He doesn't know what he means to say, maybe it would have been an apology, or a thank you, but Jason kisses him quiet before he can finish. "We're okay, Blue," he murmurs, sighing as Blue traces the bruise he left on his shoulder, "We're okay."

And Blue, as ever, believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr me](https://firefrightfic.tumblr.com/) (you know, if you like XD)


End file.
